Chapter 450 Chapter 450 My Little Princess

"This is the punishment from a father to his daughter, which was perfectly justified!"

Sean's voice rang out, his anger boiling over.

Consumed by rage, Sean had lost all sense of reason. He was genuinely afraid of Melody-after all, she was capable of madness. Just moments ago, she had cut off Suzanna's finger without hesitation.

At this point, what wasn't she capable of doing?

But with so many people in the hall, all eyes on them, Sean still clung to one thing-he was Melody's biological father.

And this was Cleussau, a land steeped in filial piety.

Here, a daughter bullying her younger sister, striking her father, and driving her own grandfather to near collapse from rage would be committing a grave violation of the cultural and moral foundation of filial respect.

Standing by Melody's side, Tyrell listened to Sean's arrogant words-his tone laced with threats as he spoke of "family law" and punishments.

Anyone could hear it-Sean was trying to intimidate Melody.

But why did he think such threats would work on her?

Unless ...

punishment Sean mentioned had already been inflicted on Melody before? Tyrell's gaze dropped, his sharp eyes settling on the slender

still appeared small

winter's chill. For some reason, Tyrell's mind was suddenly flooded with memories of Melody he had cherished for 11 years, the treasure he had pampered for a decade. He had once treated her so preciously that if she so

The Shield family.

How dare they?

into a dark ancestral hall? How dare they beat her with the cane? A surge of indescribable heartache

thin, tight line. His fingers trembled slightly as he hesitated, wanting to reach out and touch the crown of Melody's head, but his hand froze in midair.

came to

and imposing figure bending down, his entire demeanor suddenly brittle, as if

ΟΛΟΙ

his face, his voice breaking into a low, hoarse sob as

"Mel, I'm sorry.

must have suffered so, so much on your own, didn't you?" Tyrell's words struck a chord deep

upright, her

reached out to gently pat

the past,

off all escape routes. She had wanted to run, to break free, but the flames had turned

wanted

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